


Wear a Bullseye Over Your Heart

by AliceMcGee



Series: Targets [2]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMcGee/pseuds/AliceMcGee
Summary: Hawkeye is coming home, Louise knows more than she should, and Trapper thinks it's a good idea to make plans. What he forgets is that when returning from war, you carry scars - not just those that can be seen, but also those on your soul. And if those scars can do one thing, it's complicating the fuck out of everything.





	1. I

_ The war is over. The war is over. The war is over. _

_ Hawkeye is coming home. Hawkeye is coming home. Hawkeye is coming home. _

_ The war is over. Hawkeye is coming home. The war… _

It had been days since Trapper heard the news of the armistice and made a very important phone call to Maine, but he still couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that he was sitting at the Boston Airport and that before this day would be over, he would see Hawkeye again. He wondered how much Hawkeye must have changed. Back when Trapper came home, Louise said she sometimes couldn’t recognize him, and he’d been in Korea a little over a year.

He was at the airport early, of course he was there early, and of course the plane was late. Because the unsaid rules of this world always work. Like that when you’re looking forward to something very much and there’s a slight chance of something prolonging your waiting, then it would inevitably happen. He knew that, but it wasn’t exactly a soothing thought.

Trying to find a more comfortable position in his seat, he opened the newspaper he’d bought in a vain hope of distracting himself before Hawkeye’s plane would get there. He tossed out pages discussing the war and all the articles left seemed dull, focusing on such mundane things like stock exchange or politics while ignoring the fact that the most amazing person in the whole wide world was on his way from Hell back home.

Trapper stared at the printed paper but didn’t pay it any attention, his thoughts starting to wander. Thinking about their time back in Korea was too painful, now that Hawkeye was almost within the reach, so instead, he thought about the last few days.

* * *

 

There had been a pause in their correspondence - at first, Trapper waved it off as snafu. After all, his initial letter reached Hawkeye weeks after he’d sent it. But with every day of running to the mailbox and not finding the one letter he was waiting for, he grew antsier. Finally, Louise got fed up with him and suggested calling Hawkeye’s dad to find out what was the problem. It was an awkward conversation, but he got an answer. And Dr. Pierce was nothing but kind and sympathetic, promising he would call as soon as he knew whether Hawkeye was being released from psychiatry ward to go home or back to the action.

In the night, when the girls were asleep and Louise was out at some baby shower, Trapper shut himself in his study, got drunk on awful gin (he always kept a bottle handy for the nights when life in America got unbearable) and cried for Hawkeye’s beautiful mind. Louise found him after midnight, sitting on the floor and staring at nothing. She got a blanket and sat beside him, letting him lie in her lap, holding his hand and caressing his back.

It was the moment they both realized they were over and strangely, it cleared up the bitterness that had been hanging in the air whenever they tried to talk about their marriage or a possibility of a divorce. All that was left was melancholy, calm, and a curious feeling of companionship. Because now that they felt no longer like a husband and wife, they could be friends.

And it turned out Trapper really needed a friend. A few days later the phone call came, informing him that no, Hawkeye was not coming back yet. This time, Louise got drunk with him and for the first time in more than a year, they woke up in the same bed the next morning, cuddled like two kids scared of the dark. There wasn’t a trace left of the attraction that had brought them together years earlier, a lifetime ago.

With a pang of nostalgia, Trapper remembered how he’d fallen in love with Louise, how happy she made him when she agreed to go on a date with him, and how much happier she made him a year later when she agreed to marry him. How blissful their first years were and how proud he was when he held Becky for the first time.

And then came Kathy and the complications during her birth, the sharp fear that he would lose them both and how he would ever explain that to a two-year-old girl with eyes exactly like her mother’s. They got through that because Louise wasn’t the type to give up, and more blissful years came. Then the hard ones, the ones where Trapper discovered how difficult it was to live with a strong-headed woman who took none of his nonsense, the ones where he started to seek the validation he was no longer getting from his wife in the arms of young and willing girls. But he always came back, because, in the end, it was Louise. As flawed as he was, but as perfect as wives got.

Then came the news of him having to go to Korea. Louise was strong, so strong, even as he was leaving, not shedding a single tear despite her eyes shining with them. It wasn’t fair that the man who came back was so different from the one she’d married. And unable to love her the way she deserved.

When he came home from work that day, hours after his daughters’ bedtime, he found divorce papers on the table next to his dinner. For a long moment, he held them, staring at them, unable to decide how he felt.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. Meekly, because there was no way he would fight Louise on this. After all he had done to her, it was her right. Her face was a mix of relief and determination.

“I called a ranch in Reno, they say I can come next Monday. Girls can stay with my sister,” she said. “They’ll all come to stay with me for a week or two. And I think I might work, the owner of the ranch said there’s always a need for waitresses and so.”

“I see you already gave it some thinking,” Trapper said, torn between awe and annoyance.

“I haven’t decided on the grounds yet, though,” she said and her eyes twinkled. “I’m considering habitual drunkenness and insanity.”

“Let’s go with the good old mental cruelty, alright?” Trapper laughed, but then became serious again. “Aren’t you worried what people would say?“

Louise looked at him for a long while before answering. She was sitting across from him with a glass of bourbon on the table, circling the rim with her finger . She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.

“If the only way for us not to fight is to avoid each other like we’ve been doing for more than a year, what kind of marriage is it? What could other people do to us that’s worse than being trapped in a life neither of us believes in anymore? I’m not happy and neither are you, how could we raise happy children?” she said and had a point. It was an unpleasant habit of hers, to have a point. With a sigh, Trapper set the papers down and slid them across the table to Louise.

“You fill it, I’m gonna eat my dinner before it gets cold.”

And that was it. No tears, no shouting, no drama. Just two people acknowledging they would be better off on their own. After a moment of hesitation, Louise took the papers and went into the living room, coming back with another glass of bourbon. They didn’t talk, but when Trapper finished his meal and they were enjoying their drinks, Louise cleared her throat.

“I wanted to tell you something.” She took a deep breath and Trapper raised his eyebrows. The divorce talk was behind them, there was nothing that could make her this nervous. Except maybe having an affair of her own. Trapper’s insides twisted into a knot. Losing his wife was one thing, but some other man being close to his daughters...

“I… I think I know how important Hawkeye is to you,” she said instead and Trapper stopped breathing. “I mean, I understand that he… means very much.” The words were clumsy, but in her eyes, he could read what she was talking about. She knew. Oh god, she knew. His throat suddenly felt very dry.

“Louise--” he started, his voice only a whisper, but she cut him off.

“Don’t. I… I don’t really get it, but look, Johnny,” she said, offering a little smile. “I want you to be happy. I don’t think that people… like you are sick or bad, they’re just… different. I won’t make any trouble, promise.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I would like to meet him if you two manage to work things out. I guess that’s what all those letters are about?”

“Wait a minute, Louise, how come you’re this understanding?” Trapper asked, trying to calm his heart. He lifted the bourbon to his lips and noticed his hands weren’t shaking. Perks of being a surgeon. Louise finding out had been a recurring nightmare, but she was acting like the issue they were discussing was Trapper biting his nails.

“Oh, it was a process. Not an easy one,” she said with a sigh. “But I wasn’t alone. You know my friend Marilee?”

“The feminist one?” Trapper asked, a memory of older blonde woman whom his daughters called Aunt May coming to his mind.

“That’s her. She’s a WWII widow. When I started to put two and two together, I was so angry and heartbroken that you chose a  _ man _ over me. Sometimes, I wanted to scream in your face till you realized what a mistake you were making. Other times, I wanted to take kids and leave you. But then I came home and saw you with them and I love this family so much and I know you do, too… I confided in Marilee, her brother is a psychiatrist and I hoped he would know what to do, how to treat you. Instead, she told me that when her husband was at the front, he had an… an affair with another man. She penned down a letter full of accusations without thinking about it. The next news she received was he got killed in action. Marilee said her biggest regret was sending that letter, she thinks it made him upset and reckless and led to his death. I no longer think you chose...  _ this _ . I think it sort of happened, to you, to us… But you, darling, you are not just my husband. You’re the father of my amazing daughters and I will never be able to thank you enough for giving them to me. They deserve to have you in their lives more than I do. And they deserve a happy father.” She finished her drink and went to fetch the bottle, giving Trapper a moment to adjust.

Not like a moment would be enough to adjust to this development. Up till this point, both he and Hawkeye always used the phrase  _ figure things out _ when talking about future, but Trapper had to admit he had no idea how they were going to do that. What they even meant by that. It wasn’t like they could go to Las Vegas and get married. With Hawkeye being stuck in Korea, Trapper mostly focused on the thought of him getting back alive, everything else could wait. Talking about it with Louise reminded him how little idea about the future he had. Maybe he should come up with some plan…

“I could hear the gears running in your head all the way to the living room,” Louise suddenly spoke beside him, tapping him lightly on a temple. “Here, have some more bourbon,” she said and refilled their glasses before sitting down.

“Louise, I’m so sorry I wasn’t a good husband to you,” Trapper said, not knowing what else to say. How to say it. Louise laughed, the sound a bit dark, but not malicious.

“Unapologetic cheater is more like it,” she said, a barely audible echo of jealousy in her voice that made shame rise to Trapper’s face. “Relax. I learned to live with you fucking around ages ago. You can’t consider me stupid enough not to know.”

“I never deserved you,” Trapper whispered, realizing how true his words were.

“No, you didn’t,” she said, but her smile smoothed the edges of the words. “That was John before the war, though. I’m not happy you have this experience, but darling, you came home a better man. I hated Hawkeye for stealing you from me, but now I know it wasn’t him. The draft board stole you, the war did… but not him. I guess I’m kind of happy you found him there,” she concluded. This time, it was Trapper who reached out for her hand.

“How did you guess?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Remember the time you asked me out for the first time?” she said, smiling at the thought.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his smile matching hers.

“You had quite a reputation back then, but I knew you were serious about me. I knew you didn’t want to just fool around, you were blushing and your voice was trembling... It was like you decided to wear a bullseye over your heart for me, showing me where to take a shot if I wanted to play the heartbreaker. When you returned from Korea and I saw you writing those letters, it was like the bullseye was there again. Only not for me anymore.”

Trapper felt dizzy and confused, but a strange layer of certainty descended on him. He wasn’t alone. He had an ally.  _ They _ had an ally. Maybe there was a way to make things work.


	2. II

And now, he was at the Boston Airport and all he could think about was that the war was over and that Hawkeye was coming home, that he would see him soon, that they both managed to get through that hell alive, nevermind their scars. They also had a hotel room waiting for them to celebrate their reunion, and Trapper shivered in anticipation.

Finally, the PA announced Hawkeye’s plane was landing. Standing up, Trapper unknowingly started to tear up the newspaper. People were hurrying all around him. His head hurt from the noise. Time was going both too fast and as slow as dripping honey.

Then Trapper saw him and held his breath. His posture was still as lanky and carefree as Trapper remembered, but that was all. He looked so different. So skinny, so tired, so gray-haired, more than he had the right to be in his age. Their eyes met and there was something that was still the same. The blue color was as bright as ever, and so alive Trapper’s heart ached in the best way possible. The smile on Hawkeye’s lips started tiny and careful, almost like he’d forgotten to smile fully, but second by second, it was wider and happier and he was walking faster and Trapper realized he was walking and smiling, too, and then they were both running, shoving away people in their way until they were across each other, until they collided, until they were hugging each other and there were words that didn’t make sense and laugh that sounded a bit insane and tears soaking in each other’s clothes.

“You’re really here,” Trapper said, stupidly, but it was alright because no one could expect his brain to function at this moment.

“Yeah, I think so,” Hawkeye said, unsure, like he was struck by lightning. “Dad said you would be here, but I guess I was still expecting something bad to happen.”

“I know what you’re talking about. I could have felt my hair turning gray when they announced your flight was late.”

“You still look younger than me, though,” Hawkeye pointed out, touching his own silver hair, and there was nothing Trapper could say to that.

“Let’s get your stuff,” he said instead. “Then we can catch up.”

Once in the car, they didn’t fill the silence with meaningless chit-chat, trying to get used to the feeling of being close again instead. It was weird, seeing Hawkeye this quiet, but Trapper was determined to not let his uneasiness show. He had an address of a quiet bar Louise had given him (refusing to tell him where she got it, stating she was no longer obligated to explain herself to him, which he couldn’t deny).

The place was in a basement of an apartment building and when they entered, there were only four more people and a waitress behind the bar. Choosing the booth farthest from the entrance, Trapper ordered two beers.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Hawkeye said when they sat down across from each other. “I don’t want to talk about Korea. At all.”

“Okay,” Trapper agreed. He was expecting it. After his homecoming, it took him weeks to stop snapping at people when they asked about the war. “So what are your plans for near future? Have any job offers?”

“Dad says I can work with him in his practice. He’d like to retire soon. And there’s an opening for a surgeon in a hospital in Auburn, which is about an hour from Crabapple Cove. I’m not sure yet,” Hawkeye said as the waitress delivered their drinks.

“You gonna eat?” she asked, an expression of utter boredom on her face. Trapper nodded, ordering a burger with fries and after a second of hesitation, Hawkeye ordered the same.

The mood between them was growing heavier as the novelty of their reunion was running out like bubbles in a cheap sparkly wine. They ate in silence. Ordered another beer.

Then Hawkeye excused himself and went to the bathroom. The waitress came with their beers and disappeared behind the bar. Other patrons had left already, it was only the two of them. The cook exited the kitchen, saying his goodbyes to the waitress and leaving, too.

In the mirror below the ceiling, Trapper saw she was leaning over an open book behind the bar. An anatomy textbook. He smiled at the memories of all those evenings he spent buried in his own textbooks. He wanted to tell Hawkeye, but he hadn’t come back yet.

Trapper took a sip of the beer. Seconds ticked by, turning into a minute. Then another one. And another. Hawkeye still wasn’t coming back.

Taking a look around, Trapper noticed how filthy the place was, and it stung that this was where he took Hawkeye. Who still wasn’t coming.

Finally, Trapper decided to go check up on him. The waitress didn’t spare him a single look.

He found Hawkeye leaning on the sink. The faucet was running and Hawkeye was staring at himself in the mirror, his face dripping with water, as were the cuffs of his shirt. His eyes were bloodshot and haunted, but still burning with life.

Not thinking about it, Trapper locked the door and crossed the short distance between them. He reached around Hawkeye to stop the water, and suddenly, his body was pressed against Hawkeye’s back, his face buried into the fabric of Hawkeye’s shirt, and he was filling his lungs with Hawkeye’s scent. His hands ran over Hawkeye’s arms, then stomach, then chest. He still couldn’t believe he got another chance to touch Hawkeye, to feel the warmth of his body, the sure strong pulse of his beating heart. To hear Hawkeye’s breath quicken. He wanted this moment to never stop, he wanted to remember every second.

Pressing a quick kiss under his ear, he looked Hawkeye’s reflection in the eyes. Holding the stare, his hands found their way to Hawkeye’s fly, fingers shaky as they undid it and even shakier as they wrapped around Hawkeye’s cock.

Hawkeye clenched his teeth and gripped the sink so firmly his knuckles whitened, still remembering how to keep quiet in a situation like this. Trapper couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

It was quick and dirty, dirtier than their trysts in Korea because here they had better options but still decided to do it in a bar bathroom.

His eyes not leaving Trapper’s, Hawkeye came, hard and long, trembling in Trapper’s embrace, but without making a sound louder than a sharp exhale. Holding him close, Trapper kissed and nuzzled Hawkeye’s neck until Hawkeye turned his head and caught Trapper’s lips with his mouth. The kiss was tender, a contrast to the place and what had just happened. Trapper’s cock was hard, begging for release, but then he felt a dampness on his face. Surprised, he pulled away. Hawkeye was crying silently.

“Hawkeye?” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. Clearing his throat, he made a conscious effort to stop his hips from rubbing against Hawkeye’s backside. “What’s wrong?”

Hawkeye chuckled, but there was no joy in the sound. “What’s wrong? Do you really have to ask? Just look around, Trap, and tell me what  _ isn’t _ wrong with a bathroom in some shady bar and my come dripping from your fingers. This isn’t how I imagined our reunion going. At all.” His voice broke at the last words and he turned his face away. Immediately, Trapper was flooded with guilt and shame. Hawkeye was there for two hours tops, and all he’d managed to do so far was get in his pants. What a sorry excuse for a friend he was.

“Hawkeye, hey, come here,” he said, pulling him back to his chest with his clean hand. “It’s not like this was our one and only chance. You still want to figure things out together?” he asked, once more catching Hawkeye’s gaze in the mirror.

“Yeah, of course,” Hawkeye said, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

“Good. I want that too. Let’s get out of here. Remind me to yell at Louise for recommending this, will ya?” he said, finally letting go of Hawkeye to wash his hands.

“Louise recommended this?” Hawkeye asked while fixing his clothes and Trapper nodded. “There has to be a story,” Hawkeye said, his old carefree-self simmering under the surface.

They left the pub and the waitress didn’t let show if she’d noticed how long they’d been in the bathroom. Maybe Louise was right about the place.

Trapper drove them to the hotel where he’d booked two rooms. Hawkeye went to take a shower and Trapper produced a bottle of fine gin, filling two glasses that were sitting on a table. He sat down in one of two armchairs that accompanied the table, taking a look around. The room was nice and simple, with crisp linen on the bed and a reproduction of some landscape hanging from a fixture over it. In one wall, there was a door to an adjoined room - the second one Trapper paid for.

Hawkeye came from the bathroom dressed only in his shorts and a tank top and Trapper’s mouth watered. Except for one crazy R&R in Tokyo, this was the first time they had the discretion of a hotel room. But he’d already made that mistake once, he wasn’t going to make it a second time in such a short time. No matter how tempted he was.

He took one glass, handing it to Hawkeye who accepted it and sat on the bed.

“How are your girls?” Hawkeye asked after taking a sip.

“Terrific. Becky won a spelling bee in her school before the summer break started,” Trapper said, unable to hide his pride and Hawkeye smiled. “And Kathy decided a few days ago she’s gonna be the first female president.”

“Well, she definitely has my vote,” Hawkeye said. “You left out Louise,” he pointed out when Trapper failed to continue.

“Louise is not my girl,” Trapper objected but didn’t meet Hawkeye’s eyes. There was something rather unpleasant in his voice and Trapper was scared to find out what it was.

“Trouble in paradise?” Hawkeye asked.

“We’re getting a divorce. She’s been in Reno for almost a week. Five to go,” he said, leaving out so much. Because how could he share that with Hawkeye like this.

“She finally got tired of your affairs?” Hawkeye smirked, the grimace distorting his face.

“I don’t have affairs,” Trapper said, refusing to enter an argument.

“Yeah, right.” Hawkeye snorted.

“I don’t. Truth to be told, I haven’t slept with anybody - including my wife - for over a year.”

“Wow,” Hawkeye said. “Trapper John not scoring for a whole year. Who would have guessed.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and Trapper had to grind his teeth to stop himself from retorting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as calmly as he could.

“Nothing. Well--”

“Well what?”

“Well, how much voluntarily your celibate is? I mean, it’s not uncommon for vets to lose… you know…” Hawkeye waved his hand vaguely and Trapper stared at him in disbelief. Was he questioning his manhood?

“I’m sorry, were you not there in the bar bathroom with me? Or did you lose feeling in a certain body part and didn’t notice?” he said, annoyance creeping into his voice. Hawkeye’s eyes narrowed. Things were getting out of Trapper’s hands.

“Oh, I noticed. I also noticed you didn’t get your satisfaction, which seems oddly selfless for you.” Hawkeye didn’t break the eye contact as he gulped half of his glass. Trapper took few deep breaths, trying to be rational.

“Look, Hawk, if you wanna fight, then okay, let’s fight. But let’s do it like men, with fists. Not those snide remarks,” he finally said. It surprised him he was more sad than annoyed. According to his plans, by this time they should have been naked and wasted. Instead, they were arguing. What a reunion.

It seemed Hawkeye sensed Trapper’s sadness and his eyes mirrored it. “I don’t wanna fight,” he mumbled, his head hanging low.

“You have an interesting way to show that.” Trapper got up and went to sit right next to Hawkeye. Tentatively, he wrapped his arm around Hawkeye’s waist and when he didn’t protest, he pulled him closer, pressing his lips to Hawkeye’s temple. They remained like that for a long time and it was starting to feel nice again. So, of course, it didn’t last.

“Trapper, what are we doing here?” Hawkeye asked, his voice vulnerable. Trapper shivered. Vulnerable was far more dangerous than angry. Because angry Hawkeye could hurt Trapper. Vulnerable Hawkeye could get hurt.

“Well, I promised your father--”

“Yeah, but why?” Hawkeye cut him off, refusing to let him dance around the topic. Trapper tried anyway. He didn’t know what he was scared of. But he was. So much he had to clear his throat to get rid of the lump in it before answering.

“Cause I’m your friend.”

“You said you haven’t slept with anyone for a year, yet you jumped my bones on the first occasion. That seems like a very peculiar friendship,” Hawkeye said, getting up.

“Wasn’t it always?” Trapper tried for a smile. It probably came out as a grimace. Not that it mattered as Hawkeye was looking out of the window.

“I’m not in the mood for games,” he said when he turned back, his eyes almost fluorescent blue, like a neon sign, his voice increasing. “That, in the bar, was Korea all over again. I just got out from that hellhole, I’m not going back to stolen moments and secret dates! That’s not enough for me, not anymore.”

Trapper met his eye. “I don’t want that either. I’m sorry about the bar. Having you here, being able to touch you again… it was too much. But I want more, too.” He took a deep breath. “Louise knows. That’s why she’s in Reno.”

Hawkeye stared at him for what felt like an eternity. “You told your wife about us?” he finally whispered, his voice rough like a sandpaper.

“I didn’t have to, she guessed all on her own. But don’t worry, she promised she wouldn’t make any trouble,” Trapper assured him, but Hawkeye shook his head.

“I can’t believe it. How could you?” he asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea what this could mean?”

Trapper shot him a surprised look and the disappointment and fear in Hawkeye’s face hurt him. And right in the wake of that pain came anger.

“Look, Hawk, what do you want? Do you even know it yourself? One minute, you’re shouting at me that you don’t want to go back to secret dates, the next one you’re pissed my wife knows?”

“I didn’t know it was a choice between complete secrecy and some harridan knowing I’m a queer,” Hawkeye retorted and Trapper got up, his blood boiling.

“Watch it,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s the mother of my children you’re talking about.”

“Trapper, if this gets out, I’m done. It’s not safe to be… like this,” Hawkeye said, forcing his voice to drop in volume. “I don’t even know Louise. How am I supposed to trust her?”

“You don’t have to trust her, You only need to trust me,” Trapper said, feeling the anger decreasing. But not disappearing.

“What if I can’t?” Hawkeye asked, yet again looking away.

“Then there’s no point in us,” Trapper said, his shoulders slumping under the weight those words carried. He sat on the bed again. Reached for his glass and took a big gulp. Tried to blink away tears that had no right to sting behind his eyelids. He didn’t look up when he felt the bed sink as Hawkeye joined him. He didn’t look up when Hawkeye touched him, resting his hand on Trapper’s thigh, either. This night was supposed to be the beginning of a new period of his life. It probably was, but not in the way he’d imagined.

“I never wrote this to you,” Hawkeye started softly, “but I chased you to Kimpo. Missed you by ten minutes.” Trapper’s heart made a somersault. He had no idea if this was a bad sign or a good sign, if it was the first step for Hawkeye to forgive him or if it was just the opening to chewing out and ending things.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about Korea,” was all he managed to say.

“This is not about Korea, it’s about us. You left me,” Hawkeye said and Trapper knew the tone of those words - Becky said something similar when he got home. And as with her, he swallowed the  _ I didn’t have a choice _ excuse, hoping he knew what Hawkeye wanted to hear. or needed.

“I’m sorry.”

Hawkeye didn’t answer, moving a little away from Trapper and the distance almost hurt.

“Hawkeye,” Trapper said when the silence was too much. “What are we doing here?”

“I asked you the same question a few minutes back,” Hawkeye said, knocked back his drink and got up for a refill. Without even thinking about it, he passed the bottle to Trapper. “You didn’t answer.”

“That’s fair,” Trapper said, gathering the scraps of his courage. “Look, I thought… We both said we wanted to figure things out. I thought that meant… Well…” His voice gave up.

“Being together?” Hawkeye helped him.

“Well, yes,” Trapper said, taking a sip of his drink. He felt the buzz of being tipsy in his temples, but the sensation lacked its usual lightness. Instead, it made him feel even antsier.

“Trapper, you know there are laws against it,” Hawkeye reminded him, his tone unexpectedly gentle.

“Since when are you a law-abiding citizen?” Trapper asked, trying and failing to sound carefree.

“Being a physician is all I ever wanted. I can’t throw that away, not even for you. I can’t let you throw away your talent, either. And what about your girls?” Hawkeye said, so reasonable he didn’t even sound like Hawkeye anymore. Except the bitter undertone signaling how much he hated everything he’d just said.

“I’m not talking about kissing in the streets,” Trapper objected. “We could be discreet. We were discreet in Korea.”

“The war is over, Trap,” Hawkeye reminded him. “Everything’s different back here.”

“So?” Trapper asked, dark cloud of fear finding its way into his soul. “What is it you’re saying? That we’re over?”

“Was there ever a we?” Hawkeye mused, avoiding the answer.

“It sure as hell felt like that to me,” Trapper said and it was his turn to get up. He started pacing through the room. “If this is how you feel, why didn’t you tell me in your letters? Why did you write about looking forward to meeting my girls? Why did you let me think there was a chance?”

“How many promises like that you made and never kept, Trapper John?” Hawkeye got up too, his hands curling into fists. They stood across each other and Trapper thought back to those few fights they’d had back in Hell, and how easy it was to resolve them under all those threats of being in a war. There were no threats now. No easy way to make up.

“I made those to girls that didn’t matter. I thought what we had was different.” As soon as the words were out, he knew it was a mistake. But there was no way to take that back.

“Fuck you, Trapper,” Hawkeye whispered.

“As you wish,” Trapper said, turning on his heel, picking up his jacket and then he was in the hall and the door slammed shut and before he could even realize it, he was in the street, alone in the night.


	3. III

It was raining, a mild drizzle matching Trapper’s mood perfectly. This day was a wreck. Nothing went according to his plans. First that tryst in the bar bathroom, then the fight… Trapper was still a bit shocked how quickly everything derailed. Cold regret and hot anger took turns running through his veins. And under that was a feeling he didn’t want to explore, a loss too great for him to accept just yet.

_ Was there ever a we? _

He hadn’t felt this stupid since he was an awkward thirteen-year-old boy with a face full of pimples who for some reason thought it was a good idea to ask a cheerleader two years older than him out. He must have done some serious misinterpretation during last year or so.

Hawkeye’s letters did suggest that there was more, some sort of future,  _ something.  _ But maybe he didn’t mean it. Or maybe he did, but changed his mind.

Out of nowhere, Trapper was nearly overcome by a longing to hold his girls, to have them close. Everything else could fall apart, but his daughters were a constant, a fixed point to which he could cling. It didn’t matter that Hawkeye didn’t want him anymore, it didn’t matter his marriage was breaking over nothing, he would always be a father to his girls.

He took a look around and noticed a phone booth and without even thinking about it, he entered it. Already dialing Louise’s sister’s number, he realized it was too late and that Becky and Kathy would be both asleep. But Louise wouldn’t, it was three hours earlier in Reno.

“Hi, honey,” he said when Louise was called to the phone.

“Johnny?” Her voice was distorted, but the worry audible. “Is everything alright? I thought you were supposed to pick up Hawkeye today.”

“I was. I did.”

“What happened?” she asked and he could hear a chair scraping on tiles.

“An argument,” he said simply, not knowing  what to add. “Nothing went according to my plans.”

“You made plans? Hawkeye broke down recently, and you thought you could make plans for him coming back from war?” Louise said and Trapper chuckled.

“It sounds stupid when you say it like this,” he said.

“It is stupid,” Louise said bluntly and there was a click of a lighter. Trapper could almost see her, sitting in a chair with one hand holding the phone and a cigarette in the other one, her soft brown hair and kind eyes. His heart ached with a desire to go back to the times when everything was simpler.

“Couldn’t you come back?” he asked half-heartedly.

“John, don’t insult me, I’m not your backup plan,” Louise snorted.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologising to,” she pointed out.

“Hey, you weren’t there, you don’t know how Hawk acted,” Trapper objected.

“True. But I remember how you acted after you came home. And that it wasn’t your fault,” she said. Trapper leaned against the cold glass of the wall. Louise was right. Just few days ago, Hawkeye was still in Korea, stitching the last casualties. He had a right not to be all sunshine and smiles and Trapper should have given him a chance to get used to being back before talking about future.

“I fucked up,” he admitted.

“Shit happens,” Louise said. “So you had a fight. Okay, a big one. So what. You know what you should do. Everybody fights about something from time to time. The important thing is what you fight for.”

“Louise…” Trapper breathed out.

“Just go. Call me tomorrow.” And with that, she hung up. Trapper stood still for a moment longer. There weren’t many things he was sure of right then, but one of them was that if there was something worth fighting for, it was Hawkeye. And maybe he really didn’t want to be together, maybe the damage was far too serious, maybe there was no way for them to exist in the times of peace. But maybe,  _ maybe _ , there was still a chance to patch things up.

All those years ago, when he fell for Louise, he knew he needed to convince her he was serious, and he knew that the best way to do that would be open up to her.  _ It was like you decided to wear a bullseye over your heart for me, showing me where to take a shot if I wanted to play the heartbreaker. _

He exited the phone booth. It was time to let Hawkeye take his shot. So he made his way back, praying to whatever god might be listening for Hawkeye to still be there.

Back at the hotel, he went to the other room he paid for. Tossing his jacket over a chair, he took a deep breath. Then he knocked at the door to Hawk’s room and before he could change his mind, he entered.

It was dark in there, but Hawkeye’s things were there and some of the tension he wasn’t even aware of left Trapper’s body. Then he saw Hawkeye, sitting on the floor with the bottle of gin next to him and with a dozen letters scattered before him. He looked up at Trapper, eyes exhausted, but bright. Trapper realized the letters were from him and something inside him clicked into place.

“You came back,” Hawkeye said, voice full of surprise and vulnerability and something Trapper couldn’t decipher. But it wasn’t as important as traces of tears on Hawkeye’s cheeks.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I did,” Trapper said and crossed the distance between them, kneeling beside Hawkeye. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

“No, I’m sorry. I was a dick,” Hawkeye said, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. Trapper placed a hand on Hawkeye’s knee. When Hawkeye didn’t pull away, he shifted so he was sitting next to him. He was tired, the fatigue more emotional than physical, but a tiny spark of hope was burning in his heart.

“You have nothing to apologise for. I shouldn’t have dropped all that on you the moment you came back. I should have given you time to readjust.”

“Maybe readjustment isn’t even an option for me. Maybe they broke me. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Hawkeye together again,” Hawkeye said with a dark laugh. Trapper thought carefully what to say to this.

“Hawk, listen to me. I don’t know what happened to you there after I left and right now, we don’t need to talk about it. All that matters is that you’re here and that you’re still you.”

“Am I?” Hawkeye asked, reaching for the gin and taking a slug right from the bottle. “What if that place took so much of me that there’s not enough left?” he whispered.

“There’s too much of you to be taken away by one lousy war,” Trapper said, kissed Hawkeye’s temple and hugged him around shoulders, pulling him closer. And gradually, Hawkeye melted into him. It was cozy and safe and everything Trapper had hoped for, but there was one more thing he needed to say.

“Hawkeye.”

“Mmm?”

“You didn’t miss me by ten minutes,” Trapper said and worried at his lower lip.

“What are you talking about?” Hawkeye pulled away a little to look at Trapper.

“In Kimpo,” Trapper said. “I knew you were coming. Well, hoped. I persuaded the pilot to give me some extra time. He agreed to five minutes.”

“Trap…” Hawkeye whispered, but now that Trapper started, he couldn’t stop the words from coming.

“I wanted to leave you a note, a letter. But till the end, I was hoping you would make it. That I would get a chance to tell you in person, because there was no way I would be able to put it in words - more so, words that could be read by someone else. That’s why it took me so long to send you that letter - I started it hundreds of times before I managed to finish it, and I still wasn’t able to write down everything I wanted to tell you.”

“Meaning?” Hawkeye asked, looking Trapper into eyes. And there was no way of not saying it out loud, even though it scared him breathless.

“I love you.”

Hawkeye stared at him for a moment and a fear of overstepping again washed over Trapper, but then Hawkeye’s face broke into the most beautiful smile Trapper had ever seen.

“I love you too, Trap,” he said and laughed, a rich joyous sound Trapper didn’t even know he missed. And there were still problems ahead of them, obstacles to overcome and dangers to avoid, but it didn’t matter right then. What mattered was that they were together and that anything that could come, they would face it side by side.  _ Us against them. Whoever the them, we’re always us. _

Hawkeye cupped Trapper’s head and pulled him closer to kiss him, soft and tender, and Trapper kissed him back, pouring everything he felt and everything he’d hoped for into the kiss. His skin was a network of over-sensitive nerve-ends responding to every little sensation, and he couldn’t help but shiver when Hawkeye’s hands started to touch him lightly, here and there, without any pattern, keeping Trapper on tips of his toes.

They kissed and kissed and Hawkeye’s caresses were less and less innocent. His fingers deliberately lingered on the strip of naked skin between Trapper’s pants and shirt. Scared of rushing things again, Trapper stayed still, leaving Hawkeye completely in control. The only activity he allowed himself was to kiss back and to lean into Hawkeye’s touches. It was slow, they both knew there was no reason to hurry anymore. They savored each other, finally without a fear of getting caught or that this might be the last time for them.

Hawkeye tore his lips away from Trapper’s, who made a whiny little sound that would have once upon a time embarrassed him. But Hawkeye’s mouth didn’t stay unoccupied for long, latching on Trapper’s throat. His fingers were busy undoing Trapper’s shirt and it seemed that Trapper’s heart quickened with every button. Then he was naked from the waist up and Hawkeye dipped his head to place a line of open-mouthed kisses down his torso and Trapper moaned, shivering under Hawkeye’s lips. He couldn't bear not touching Hawkeye anymore. His hands sprang up to Hawkeye’s shoulders and he hauled him back up, kissing him roughly. He couldn’t get enough of Hawkeye’s taste, of the feeling of being close. Reaching for Hawkeye’s undershirt, he yanked it over his head and then he was suddenly laying on the floor and Hawkeye was nuzzling his stomach while his trembling hands took care of Trapper’s remaining clothes.

Then the world before Trapper’s eyes shattered into blinding whiteness as there was a wet heat surrounding his cock and he couldn’t believe what a difference it made when it was the right person doing it to him instead of someone random. It was too much.

“Hawk,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Stop.”

Hawkeye looked at him and the sight of his lips, parted and glistening, nearly undid Trapper. He understood without words, quickly getting rid of his shorts. He climbed on top of Trapper, burying his face in the crook between Trapper’s neck and shoulder, his breath hot and fast. Trapper held him close with one arm, his other hand sneaking down to wrap around both their cocks, and  _ fuck _ , that felt incredible. Hawkeye’s hand joined Trapper’s, interlocking their fingers and creating a tight tunnel, and they set up a pace that ensured this wouldn’t last much longer. 

Their lips met in an unfocused, messy kiss, and the room was filled with the sound of skin on skin and of their ragged breath. Trapper was quickly hurtling towards orgasm but he couldn’t bring himself to slowing down. Hawkeye’s moans signalled he was close, too. His nails dug into Trapper’s shoulder and his hips bucked into their hands and it was slick and hot and then Hawkeye kissed him again, deep, fucking Trapper’s mouth with his tongue in the rhythm of their thrusts and Trapper was done, coming stronger than ever, his hairs standing on ends. And Hawkeye was right there with him, moaning into Trapper’s mouth, biting his lip, his fingers gripping Trapper so hard there would be tiny little bruises on his skin. He towered above Trapper, head thrown back, jaw slack and skin shining with sweat and so beautiful Trapper had to close his eyes. Then Hawkeye collapsed on top of him, murmuring, “I love you,” over and over like a mantra and with a surprise, Trapper realized his own voice echoed Hawkeye’s.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when his heartbeat finally slowed down. Hawkeye lay on Trapper’s chest, wet hair plastered to his forehead, cheeks still flushed and eyes closed. Happiness filled Trapper from tips of his toes to the top of his head. He had Hawkeye in his arms again. Finally, the world started to make sense.

Hawkeye slid off him, but didn’t let go, lips pressed against Trapper’s shoulder and one leg across Trapper’s thighs, like he was scared Trapper would disappear on him. Trapper reached for the nearest piece of clothing and cleaned them up, then he turned to his side to face Hawkeye. He was watching him, his eyes bluer than ever before, and the pure affection in them stole Trapper’s breath.

“I loved other people,” he said. “And they all mattered.”

“Of course you did,” Trapper said, surprised by the lack of jealousy. He knew how easy it was for Hawkeye to fall head over heels for someone. What that place did to your heart, how you would look for a distraction from atrocities all around you. How much easier it was to get through those days and nights when you had someone to cling to. How much it helped to have someone you could paint a bright future with.

“But I didn’t make promises to anyone but you,” Hawkeye continued, looking into Trapper’s eyes. “Because every time I thought about it, it was you for me. It will always be you.”

“It’s you for me as well,” Trapper said and there was no need to add anything else, nothing else to confess, nothing to be sorry for. They kissed once more and then relaxed, snuggled up in shared bliss. The floor was hard, though, and soon Trapper’s back started to hurt. He sighed and tried to untangle himself from Hawkeye who immediately held onto him tighter. Trapper couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he whispered into Hawkeye’s hair and stood up, groaning in discomfort. “Look at us. We finally have a bed - no, two beds in two rooms - and where do we choose to get naughty? On the floor.”

“Old habits die hard,” Hawkeye said with a smirk and reached out for Trapper to help him up. He did, pulling him into a tight hug, his hands running down Hawkeye’s back. He could never get enough of the feeling of having Hawkeye in his embrace. Overcome by sudden playfulness, he grabbed Hawkeye’s thighs and lifted him up, forgetting his backache. Hawkeye giggled in delight, wrapped his legs around Trapper’s waist and bowed his head to kiss Trapper’s lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think I could go for another round shortly.”

“Then let’s fucking try it in bed this time.”


End file.
